


Fire

by Supernova95



Series: Home Alone [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom, DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernova95/pseuds/Supernova95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim was stuck. He couldn’t move and it was getting really hot.</p>
<p>All he was doing was taking the class register back to the main school office when three of the older boys ran passed laughing, swearing, not noticing him. They hadn’t meant to knock him into the cupboard. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

Tim was stuck. He couldn't move and it was getting really hot.

All he was doing was taking the class register back to the main school office when three of the older boys ran passed laughing, swearing,  _not noticing him_. They hadn't meant to knock him into the cupboard. Right? It's not like he was worth being bullied. He wasn't worth the effort of being *pushed* into the janitor's closet so hard he hit his head and made some of the shelves fall down. He wasn't worth being locked in either. Was he.

But he was… how did that make him happy?

But that wasn't why he was getting hot. He didn't know why he was getting hot. The cupboard had ventilation and was nowhere near the school boilers; some of the cleaning chemicals gave of harsh fumes when they vaporized, so why was it getting hot? As in unbearably hot. The sort of heat you get when you walk into one of the Food Technology* rooms in the summer after the class before have just spent a whole double period with all the ovens turned on to their highest gas mark. It felt like he had just materialised in the centre of the sun and was being vaporized by its fifteen million degrees K heat. It felt like he was on fire.

And it was getting worse.

He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? The air in front of him carried a slightly tinted haze as a small orange glow started to creep under the door. It was enticing, hypnotising and perilously dangerous all at once. The way it shimmered, flickered and radiated. The way it could destroy cities, homes, families and yet give them the means to cook and survive and keep warm in the harsh winter.

The God's gift to man that turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

Fire.

His feet burned much like being left on a radiator too long. But he still couldn't move, pinned to the floor by a shelf that he couldn't move on his own. Panic was starting to set in. What would his parents say? How would they react to their son being absolutely useless? The shallow breaths that currently posed as breathing increased in frequency until he was hyperventilating and close to passing out.

Why was he so useless?

Other people weren't this useless. Didn't get themselves trapped inside their school when it was on fire. Didn't get themselves trapped in the first place. Other people were bullied for a purpose; they were noticed and bullied because there was something there that the bullies envied. Not randomly shoved into a closed because he was walking past people. That was just him being useless and not being able to stand his ground.

Other people didn't hyperventilate in a cupboard full of dangerous vaporized chemicals.

Other people didn't-

* * *

It took them four hours to get Tim in an ambulance; one to notice he was missing, two more to quell the blaze and find him and another to get him out. They were so relieved he was alive.

The school didn't need negligent homicide charges brought against them.

They called his parents. They weren't in. So they called the designated emergency contact number, and for a state school they were mildly surprised that it was Bruce Wayne, even more surprised that he was Tim Drake's godfather, but what surprised them the most was that his *butler* said he would send "Master Wayne" as soon as possible. Which happened to be about ten minutes (the distance from Wayne Enterprises to Gotham General) and he arrived before the ambulance.

It was finally nice to see that someone cared for the kid. He was so sweet and eager to please, yet scared and would do anything to stop a teacher from shouting; even if it wasn't directed at him.

Their shouting was never directed at him. He never did anything wrong.

* * *

The hospital was frantic, as always, but at least they cared for a kid with heat stroke, dehydration and harmful chemical inhalation. Unlike Tim's parents who were off another one of their damned trips.

He had originally thought that they took Tim with them; because there was never any sign of life in the house when they were gone.

But they didn't, they left him at home, all alone, to fend for himself. He was eight for goodness sake, and this was the last straw. The Drakes didn't deserve the treasure they had been given. Tim was a gift. He was special.

And he had no one to tell him that. No one who cared enough to make him smile. And it made the father in Bruce sick.

He already had two little lights in his life; it wouldn't hurt to add a third.


End file.
